Witness
by Michael2
Summary: Colin gets mixed up with a young woman in the witness protection program-COMPLETE
1. Circus Circus

The players across from me placed their bets on the table, which had a five dollar minimum. Some of them bet only five dollars, others bet more. I then dealt out the cards one by one. My top card was a six, and all of the players smiled. One of them who had a pair of twos split them, and I gace him two cards. this woman had a ten, and she doubled down.  
  
After they were all done, I revealed the down card which was a nine. I could see the grin on their faces. I drew the next card from the dealing shoe.  
  
The players' excitement turned to disappointment as the next card was revealed. It was a six of spades. No one else had a count of twenty-one, so I collected all the bets.   
  
A thin Negro man came up to the table; he was here to relieve my shift. "Well, I guess I've got to go to work," he said, smiling.  
  
"Sure," I said. "See you later."  
  
I left the blackjack table and went to a small snack shop where I ordered a slice of mushroom pizza and a Coke. I looked around at the patrons of the snack shop and the gamblers at the gaming tables and slot machines. Every once in a while, I would hear one of the slot machines drop down a lot of coins.   
  
I had been here for two weeks now. After my arrival on this version of Earth, I went to the library to see if I could find out where Quinn is. I noticed the Internet does not exist, and despite looking through all the phone books, I could not find a Quinn Mallory. So I got a job at the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino in Long Beach, California. I actually became an adept blackjack dealer. The fellow who trained me noticed my talent. I told him I've been around a lot, so I learn new things rather easily. When I was not working, I did some research in recent local history. From what I read, the United States government collapsed following a Great War in Europe which ended in 1919. California became its own independent republic, with its own president and legislature and military. Gambling was legalized in 1939 under President Earl Warren. One of my observations is that Japanese businessmen set up shop in the state. About a quarter of the guests of Circus Circus were Japanese, and Japanese firms such as Toyota and Sony had manufacturing facilities scattered across Los Angeles and Orange Counties.   
  
I finished my Coke, and then I decided to go to the Race and Sports book bar. It took only a minute of navigating thourhg the slot machines before I reached the place. I sat at the bar and ordered the drink from the blond-haired bartender whose name was Angela.  
  
"Hi, Colin," she said. "Off work now?"  
  
"Yes," I replied. I ordered a Coors original.  
  
I had known Angela for these past two weeks. She was such a sweet person. She was a newcomer too; she had started working here about three months ago. She was a native of Long Beach, though, at least that was what she told me. As I would later find out, it was not the whole truth.  
  
There are many Sony color televisions mounted on the wall. They showed baseball and basketball games, as well as horse races from Santa Anita and Los Alamitos and Del Mar. There was a Press-Telegram newspaper left on the counter from a previous customer. I read an article about California President Charlton Heston.  
  
I looked at my watch which indicated the amount of time I had left on a world before I would slide to the next one. I do not have much time to form long-term relationships with anyone. I can still remember having a fling with that princess back in January.   
  
"Well, I'll be leaving in a few days," I said to Angela as I sipped my beer.   
  
"Do you really have to go?" she asked. "Being a blackjack dealer pays good money, enough to rent an apartment."  
  
"I have to continue my journey."  
  
"is there any reason why you have to quit?"  
  
"Well, it's kind of complicated..and strange. You would not believe me if I told you."  
  
"I'm a pretty open minded person," she replied. "Considering what I've been through these past three months."  
  
"Well, I hope you're open-minded enough to have a cup of coffee with me."  
  
"I get off work at 10. There's a coffeeshop on the corner of Pine and First. Meet me there at 10:15."  
  
"Okay."  
  
After finishing my beer, I decided to gamble some of my day's earnings. The casino hired a lot of people under the table, and Angela told me the turnover was on average eight months. She told me that she may have to quit within the next two weeks, something to do with important business.   
  
Suddenly I bumped into someone. "Excuse me," I said. The person I bumped into was apparently female, and I only had a glance at her face, so she picked something up and walked quickly. She did look familiar though; I might have seen her here in the casino, or one of her duplicates in another world. She seemed to be heading in the directions of the Race and Sports Book.  
  
Well, anyway I went to a slot machine located near the Sand Lounge, where there was a band playing. I noticed a poster for some Texan singer named Selena, scheduled to have a concert here at Circus Circus on Saturday. I actually heard some of her music, and she is quite popular here in California. Anyway, I put my quarters into the slot machine.   
  
I had twenty dollars' worth of quarters and I started stuffing them into the machine. Usually I would lose, but occasionally I would win a few quarters. Slowly, my bankroll was drying up. then I put my last quarters in. I pulled the handle, and then the result was three green bars! The machine paid out two hundred forty quarters, which was sixty dollars worth. I wondered if I should gamble every cent I have before sliding. After all, that is what I usually do when there is a casino nearby.  
  
There was still some time to kill before I had to meet with Angela. I decided to watch the free circus acts. The circus acts were located in this circular dome. I saw trapeze artists jump from trapezes. And of course there was the ground acts where clowns and others did their various things. I decided to read the Press-Telegram. I read an article that interested me. It was short article about a proposed freeway.  
  
Press-Telegram-Construction began on the Santa Monica Freeway Monday where President Charlton Heston dug the first piece of dirt along the proposed route.   
  
Due to increased road traffic between Santa Monica and Los Angeles, CalTrans proposed a freeway between the two cities, from Pacific Coast Highway to the Santa Ana Freeway.  
  
Republic Highway 6 will be the designation of the freeway once it is opened. The freeway will replace the portion of Highway 6 that includes Olympic Boulevard.  
  
Currently, the list of proposed freeways include the Long Beach Freeway (Highway 15) from Long Beach to the Santa Ana Freeway, and the San Bernardino Freeway, which will be the new routing of Highway 6 from Los Angeles to San Bernardino.  
  
I've been to this area a couple of times, and I have seen versions of Los Angeles County with an extensive freeway system. In this version of California, the only freeways in Los Angeles County are the Harbor Freeway from San Pedro to Los Angeles, the Santa Ana Freeway from Los Angeles to Santa Ana, and the Golden State Freeway from Los Angeles to San Fernando. Perhaps fifty years from now, there will be such a network of freeways here. Certainly all of the taxes from gaming revenues are in part financing the construction of the freeways.  
  
It was at 10 PM when I met up with Angela right after she clocked out.   
  
"Shall we go?" she asked. We left thorugh the hotels' main entrance, which opened onto Pine Avenue. We then walked across Ocean Bouelvard. I noticed that the stretch Pine Avenue from Shoreline Drive to Anaheim Street had a lot of casinos on the sides. We stopped at a coffeeshop at the corner called the Hippo.  
  
It was a quiet place, in contrast to the casinos. I saw a map of Long Beach mounted on the wall, and I noticed a dashed line which marked the route of the proposed freeway. There were some magazines on the tables. Angela and I ordered coffee, and I made sure to put creamer and sugar in it.  
  
I read the California Scientific. The cover had the caption "Atomic Energy A great deal of energy is stored in the nucleus of an atom. What are the promises, and the perils?" The article explained how the nucleus of a uranium atom can be split into two fragments of roughly equal mass, and how this can release energy. It explained how one gram of uranium can relase as much energy as twenty barrels of oil. The article also mentioned that it could create a new type of waste, and this issue must be resolved if energy from the atom is to be used.  
  
I decided to show it to Angela. "So, what do you think of atomic energy?" I asked.  
  
She sipped her coffee. "It could be used to make bombs."  
  
"Bombs?" I asked.  
  
Angela read through the article. "Well, it says here that there is a lot of energy in uranium; it could be used in a bomb."  
  
I knew about atomic bombs, from what I read in parallel universes. Atomic bombs have not yet been invented in this world though. Angela does seem to be perceptive. I never noticed she had any interest in science though; I;'ve spoken to her a couple of times and she is more into sports and gambling.  
  
"So, you ever been to that Gran Prix?" I asked. "I heard it's coming up on Saturday."  
  
"Yes," she replied. "I go there with my friends every year since I was a kid. I would watch the races, and we would go to the convention center and view that Life Expo. I was there last year."  
  
"So was I," I said. "I had plenty of time to spare, so my brother and I and some friends went to Long Beach to watch the races. We had a good time. You know, sometimes we just have to sit back and take a break from life."  
  
"You know, when I was little my parents took me to Disneyland. I..."  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Disneyland is an amusement park. It's not well-known here."  
  
I have heard of Disneyland before; I went there twice on two different versions of Earth. But I never heard of any Disneyland in this version of Earth. Perhaps it was in another country, like Texas or New York.  
  
"Well, there's that amusement park a block from Circus Circus."  
  
"You mean the Pike?"  
  
"Yeah. you ever been there when you were little?"  
  
"No, I haven't."  
  
"That's odd," I remarked. "I mean, you grew up in Long Beach, and your parents never took you to the Pike?"  
  
Angela sipped her coffee. "So, what sports do you like?"  
  
"I like basketball," I said. "It's an interesting game. I even saw a game about two years ago with my brother and friends."  
  
"you must be really close to your brother."  
  
"I haven't seen him in a long time, due to circumstances beyond my control. I have faith that I will see him again." I stared past the dimensional barriers, wondering where Quinn is now. "So what's your favorite team?"  
  
"It's the Lakers," she said.  
  
"Lakers?" I asked. I haven't heard of any Lakers on this Earth.   
  
"When I was little, the Lakers were in L.A. Obviously, they are not there anymore."  
  
"Well, I like the Clippers," I said. "I heard they might make it to the CBA quarterfinals."  
  
"Yeah," she said. "Listen, have you ever wanted to tell someone something true, but you were afraid they wouldn't believe you."  
  
"Yes," I said.  
  
"I might be gone in a few days."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I have to appear in court soon."  
  
"you have to go to a court hearing? But you can always come back after you finish that business."  
  
"I might not. It's complicated. Maybe we should talk about something else."  
  
But we did not talk. We simply sipped our coffee. I looked around, there were only a few people here, trying to get away from the noise of the casino. This coffeeshop was like an eye in the storm.   
  
I saw one of them get up, a big Negro man. He was wearing a suit. He took something from his suit pocket and looked at it. It looked like a cell phone.  
  
Then I remembered that I never saw anyone with a cell phone, nor read an references about cell phones, in the past two weeks since my arrival. I could tell something was very amiss.  
  
"Angela," I said, "have you ever heard of cell phones?"  
  
"Well, yeah," she said. "Where did you hear about cell phones?"  
  
"Well, one of the customers here had what looked like a cell phone."  
  
"My God," she whispered. "who was it?"  
  
"That big Negro fellow in a suit."  
  
"Colin, we have to get out of here. I have to call Rickman."  
  
"Who?" I asked, though the name did sound familiar. "You have a cell phone, right?"  
  
"No," she said. "I going to have to use the pay phone. Now, you seem to know a lot. did Rickman or Hurley send you?"  
  
"Who are they?" I asked.  
  
Angela got up and left, and I decided to follow. She inserted coins into a GTE pay phone, and then dialed a number.   
  
"Hello, is Mr. Rickman there?" she asked...."I thinkl they followed me here. You've got to relocate me....What do you mean you can't relocate me? What happened?"  
  
I could sense danger. The huge Negro man in the suit walked out. He was the source of danger. My guardian angel was telling me something.   
  
He pulled something out of his suit. It was a shiny silvery obhect. I saw him smile, revealing a gold tooth. I immediately pulled Angela away.  
  
then I had a shot. As I had suspected, the shiny thing was a gun!  
  
We both ran away as fast as he can; we did not know if he had more bullets. We ducked into a casino and heard some more shots.  
  
"I think he fled," I said. I then heard the sirens of police cars coming. Police officers from the Long Beach Police Department were already taking statements.  
  
Angela pulled a cigarette out and lit it. She inhaled and let out a puff of smoke. "We have to go, Colin," she said. "It's not safe for me, and it's not safe for you."  
  
"Are we going back to your house?" I asked.  
  
"They might be waiting for me there," she said. "There's this place we can go to. Ity's in Santa Fe Springs.We'll have to take the Red Car that runs along Highway 35."  
  
So that's what we did. We rode on the bus along Willow Street. We passed through a rural area, and then reached Los Alamitos. A Red Car line ran down Los Alamitos Boulvard, which was designated as Republic Highway 35. We then hopped onto the Pacific Electric Red Car trolley.  
  
"You know, it would be a lot easier if the 605 had been built," said Angela.  
  
"The what?" I asked, assuming it was a bus or trolley route.   
  
"Never mind," she said. "you'll find out what I mean."  
  
"Why was he trying to kill you?" I asked.   
  
"You see, colin. I'm in the witness protection program."  
  
"I've heard of it."  
  
"I was supposed to testify in a case against some gang boss. The feds placed me here until I am scheduled to testify. a guy named Rickman was my contact. He called me yesterday and told me I might have to appear in court by Friday."  
  
"so you were calling this Mr. Rickman."  
  
"Excpet when I called, they told me that something had happened, and they would not be able to relocate me or even bring me home."  
  
"Was a flight canceled or something."  
  
"You'll find it hard to believe. I guess I'll have to show you when we get there."  
  
After a few minutes, we finally arrived in Santa Fe Springs. We were in an industrial neighborhood and it was dark. She took me to this warehouse. she knocked on the door.  
  
"hello," someone said.  
  
"iIt's Angela. I called Mr. Rickman earlier."  
  
After a few seconds, the door opened. "He's expecting you."  
  
We both went into the warehouse. Fluorescent lamps lit the place. We went into a what looked like a conference room where two men sat, both wearing white shirts and khakis. They both looked familiar.  
  
"Hello there," said this man. "So you said someone tried to kill you."  
  
"Yes," replied Angela. "It was this big black man."  
  
"he had a gold tooth," I said.  
  
"It appears that one of Van Dahl's people made it here," said the other man, adjusting his eyeglasses.  
  
"I'm Colin Mallory," I said.  
  
"I'm Angus Rickman," said the man. "this is Michael Hurley. We are from the Witness Security Agency.  
  
"We're familiar with the description you gave us," said Michael Hurley. "He is a known enforcer for Van Dahl."  
  
"Could you tell me what is going on?"  
  
"This young lady here is a tobacco addict," said Rickman. "She decided to become a small-time tobacco dealer to pay her debts. She got caught, and she chose to testify for the government rather than spend five years in a federal prison. You see, we are trying to build a case against Galen van Dahl. He is a businessman whom we suspect is running a tobacco distribution ring, but we never had the chance to prove it. Mr. Van Dahl is a very wealthy person from his sales of illegal tobacco. Aparently he even has the resources to send his people here to kill witnesses."  
  
Something was obviously wrong with this story. "Tobacco isn't illegal," I said. "They sell cigarettes at the Circus Circus gift shop."  
  
"It's hard to explain, Colin," said Angela.  
  
"They managed to find us here too," said Michael Hurley. "Apparently, someone sent us an e-bomb. It fries all electronics within thirty feet. It's used by the military against communications arrays. It fried our equipment, and we can't even contact home, let alone relocate Angela to another place."  
  
"Well, there's a gas station down the street," I said. "why not use the pay phone."  
  
"It's not that simple," said Angus Rickman. "Maybe we should show you."  
  
He and Michael Hurley took me and Angela to this room. there was a whole bunch of electrical equipment in there, none of which was on. I saw compiuters in there, which looked more advanced than any computer I have seen in this world.  
  
"I'm not from this world, Colin," said Angela. "I'm from a parallel world."  
  
Now that was a surprise. 


	2. Stakeout

"Let me get this straight," I said, as I heard the revelation. "You three are from a parallel universe?"  
  
"All of us in this building are from a parallel universe," said Angus Rickman."It will be a difficult concept to explain."  
  
"I understand," I said. "I too am from a parallel universe. Not from yours, I think, unless there is a slidecage that redirects incoming wormholes."  
  
"Slidecage?" asked Michael Hurley.  
  
"Never mind. You said you had something to do with witnesses."  
  
"Hurley and I are field agents for the Witness Security Agency, or WSA for short," said Rickman. "As you might guess from our name, we hide witnesses in federal and state criminal cases. We operate under the U.S. Department of Justice."  
  
"U.S. You mean United States?"  
  
"Well, yes. So you are familiar with the term."  
  
"On this Earth, the Union disintegrated over eighty years ago."  
  
"Last I've heard, the Union in my home world is going strong. Well, any way, let's see where I should begin. Apparently, sometime during the 1970's some guy in England was researching anti-gravity when he created a wormhole. It was discovered that this wormhole could be used for quantum translocation, which is what the science people call going to other versions of Earth. It became public knowledge, and the U.S. government decided to study it. The military explored some of these parallel universes. In 1982, the Department of Justice conducted a study of the feasibility of hiding criminal witnesses in parallel Earths. Congress approved, and the WSA began relocating witnesses to parallel Earths in 1984."  
  
"I was relocated here in January," said Angela. "The WSA got me a job at Circus Circus as a bartender."  
  
"We set up outposts on parallel Earths," said Rickman. "We set them up in places where we can operate with minimal interference from the outside world. When a witness is considered for quantum relocation, we review several worlds, making sure that no living duplicate exists on that particular world. The same goes for field agents; we make sure that none of them have any living duplicates on the world we are considering assigning them to. Angela here has no living duplicate, and there are no dangers for her, so she was sent here. We got her a job at the casino and got her an apartment."  
  
"Why did you choose to settle her in Long Beach?" I asked.  
  
"Angela was from Long Beach; we figured putting her in a familiar environment would ease the transition."  
  
"How many worlds did you guys scout out?"  
  
"I estimate about two hundred," said Rickman. "At least that's what I heard."  
  
"The people at Cheyenne Mountain are still exploring new worlds," said Michael Hurley. "I was stationed there when I was in the Air Force before my discharge."  
  
"So tell me about yourself," said Rickman.  
  
So I told them about how my brother built a sliding generator, and how I explored parallel worlds with him. One day, I somehow got separated from him, and I ended up unstuck, which mneant I would slide from world to world without a timer.  
  
"Interesting story," said Rickman. "You must have seen a lot of things."  
  
"Yes, I am very experienced in traveling the multiverse. So what now? You mentioned that you couldn't relocate Angela to another Earth."  
  
"Our technicians are still working on it," said Rickman. "As we said before, someone sent a bomb here which created an EMP and fried all of our computers. Given the fact that someone tried to murder Angela here, we suspect Van Dahl was behind this."  
  
"Oh." I looked around and there were technicians in white coats. One of them, a Negro lady in her late thirties, spoke to Rickman.  
  
"This is bad," said Rickman.  
  
"What?" asked Angela.  
  
"I'm Diana Davis, the head field technician," said the Negro lady.  
  
"I take it you are not of this Earth," I said.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "Anyway, the e-bomb fried all of the microchips in the computers."  
  
"What of the wormhole generator?" I asked.  
  
"You mean the quantum translocation drive? It works perfectly fine, but we need the computers to direct the wormhole to the proper world. The microchips on this world are too primitive for our purposes-microchips were only on the market here for nine years."  
  
"Well, that should not be such a problem," I said. "I mean, once the people back home find out they lost contact with you, they'll send someone here."  
  
"It could be days before we hear from them," said Rickman. "Usually we do not receive communication from them except at the beginning of each month and when they need to bring a witness to court. Since we can not contact them, I do not expect them to try to contact us until Thursday evening, the day before Angela here has to testify before a grand jury."  
  
"So just keep here here until someone arrives from your world."  
  
"Except we are dealing with someone with access to quantum translocation. He sent an e-bomb last time. The next time he could send a thermite bomb."  
  
"And we have no way of contacting our superiors back home and informing them of this development," added Michael Hurley. "We are now alone."  
  
I went back to the conference room. It was empty now. There was a newspaper on the desk, and wall maps on the walls.  
  
I took a look at the newspaper which was the Los Angeles Times. It was dated April 1, 2000. A quick browsing revelaed that this newspaper was from Angela's world. There was an article about U.S. President Condoleeza Rice meeting with former U.S. President John Glenn.   
  
I examined the two wall maps. They looked very similar at first, for they are both Thomas Brothers maps of Los Angeles and Orange Counties, and the grid of streets and highways appear similar. Indeed, they were both published in 1996.   
  
But they were maps of corresponsing locations from two different worlds. I could tell which map was the map from this world as the one from Angela's world.  
  
For one thing, the map from Angela's world had more streets. It also had more freeways. As I suspected, Angela's version of Los Angeles and Orange Counties had a more extensive freeway system. I also noticed there were Interstate and U.S. highways in Angela's world, while there were only California Republic highways on this world.   
  
Still, the locations of the cities as well as the layout of the streets and highways were similar. My brother Quinn would call this a case of quantum interference.  
  
The Long Beach Freeway existed on Angela's world, and its route designation was Interstate 710. It corresponded to California Highway 15 on this world.  
  
Another freeway that passed through Long Beach in Angela's world was the San Diego Freeway, which was Interstate 405. It went from San Fernando to Irvine. The portion north of Torrance corresponded to the portion of California Highway 7 from Torrance to San Fernando.  
  
The Santa Monica and San Bernardino Freeways were complete in Angela's wordl, and they were designated as Interstate 10. Their counterparts on this world had not been constructed yet, and the proposed designation was California Highway 6.  
  
There was a Highway 10 on this world, it corresponded to Interstate 105.   
  
The Harbor Freeway existed on both worlds, but had different route numbers. Here it was California 11, on angela's world it was Interstate 110.   
  
Interstate 605 in Angela's world ran near the San Gabriel River, just like California 35 does in this world. Now I knew what Angela meant by the 605.  
  
"Doing some studying?" asked Angela. I turned and looked at her.  
  
"Well, being an interdimensional traveler, I tend to make comparisons between worlds," I said.  
  
"You want to know what my world's like?"  
  
"I've learned a lot of things about this world; I might as well learn about yours."  
  
"Well, there are more freeways from where I live, as you can tell from those maps. It wasn't too hard to learn how to get around here, since the street layout is similar. They don't have the Red Cars on my world, but they have those high-speed commuter trains like the one that runs down the middle of the 405. The Internet is more developed on my world, while here I don't know if the Internet even exists. Here, green lights mean go and red lights mean stop, while it's the other way around on my world. Here, tobacco is legal, and we can go to casinos in Long Beach, while on my world, you have to go to an Indian reservation or Las Vegas, and it's against the law to even possess tobacco."  
  
"I heard you once dealt tobacco."  
  
"Yeah, it was stupid. I got hooked on smoking when I was twelve. I even had to steal to support my habit. Eventaully, I started out dealing, and I made more money than I needed to pay for cigarettes. a lot more money. I even bought a BMW with this awesome stereo system. Everything seemed to be going fine until I was stupid enough to sell cigarettes to a undercover FBI. The feds gave me a choice-either testify before them or go to prison. I decided to testify. That was when I met Mr. Rickman and Mr. Hurley. They told me about this quantum relocation thing; I'm not into science and all I know is that I could go to another kind of Earth. After then, I jumped into a vortex and I ended up here. They set me up at Circus Circus and you know the rest."  
  
"Do you know anything about this Galen van Dahl?" I asked.  
  
"The feds told me he was the head of all the tobacco gangs. He started dealing tobacco when he was in the Marines, and he built his organization. They say he's ruthless. He's also well-connected; his front does business with city of Long Beach. So tell me about your travels."  
  
So I did. I told her about myself and my experiences for the next hour or so.  
  
Angela yawned. "Well, you've had a pretty interesting life. I mean, I guess I understand some of what you're going through, what with living in a strange land, away from family and friends."  
  
"Well, I guess what we both should do is take this thing one day at a time."  
  
After that, I decided to go to sleep right there.  
  
The chair in the conference room was not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep. I was a little tired when I woke up. I walked around to familiarize myself with the place. In addition to the conference room and the room with the sliding generator, there were offices, storehouses, and a locked room with a sigh indicating it as an armory. I saw Angela sleeping on a couch next to Rickman's office.   
  
"Nice to see you're up," said Angus Rickman as he approached, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans.  
  
"Well, I'm a light sleeper," I said. "I guess it was somthing picked up from my years of sliding. I hope you have breakfast."  
  
"We have stuff in the dining room."  
  
So we both went to the dining room. It had tables and benches counters. I saw a coffeepot and a Kenmore microwave oven. There were less than a handful of people already there, eating breakfast.  
  
I poured some Kellogg's Frosted Flakes into a styrofoam bowl and then ate it. to wash it down, I decided to prepare some coffee. The dining room had some Folger's instant coffee; I mixed the coffee with water and then heated it in the microwave oven.  
  
"We don't have a regular cooking staff here," said Rickman as I sipped my coffee. "Most of the food we have here is canned or dried. Occasionally, we might buy stuff from the world."  
  
"I doubt American dollars are accepted here," I said, remembering what the California Republic currency looks like.  
  
"Oh, we have a small printing press where we can create counterfeit money. The mint in this world isn't as sophisticated as the U.S. Mint back home. Only Hurley or I could authorize the use of the counterfeit currency, and we only spend less than a hundred dollars at a time. We sure don't want the California Treasury Department to begin an investigation."  
  
I sipped the last of my coffee from the styrofoam cup. "I guess we'll have to wait," I said.  
  
"Our location here has been compromised," said Rickman. "Van Dahl knows where our outpost in this world is, and he may even sell his knowledge to others. We're going to have to shut down this outpost."  
  
"Are you gonna set up another outpost here?"  
  
"We had a hell of a time setting this place up, what with buying the property and all. But we have other witnesses besides Angela hiding out here. We're gonna have to choose between relocating them to another world and setting up shop elsewhere. I suppose we can look into relocating them, as soon as I get home, which won't happen unless someone from there comes here."  
  
"Well, maybe there's another outpost here. Do you know if the military or the CIA has an outpost here?"  
  
"I know the military does not have an outpost, and I would not know where to look even if the CIA had one here."  
  
I sat down on the bench. I looked outside, and I noticed that it was raining pretty hard. I saw a Sony color TV and I pressed the power switch, but there was nothing.  
  
"The e-bomb that destroyed our quantum transcommunication stuff also fried the TV," said Rickman.  
  
I looked at the clock and it was 7:55. It did give me an idea. "It just occurred to me," I said. "If Van Dahl or his people came here, they must have timers."  
  
"Well, yes," said Rickman. "I don't think Van Dahl would have set up an outpost on a parallel Earth complete with its own QTD."  
  
"If we can find them and grab their timers, we can then have a way home."  
  
"And it would lead us right back to where Van Dahl has his QTD. Come with me."  
  
And so Rickmna led me to a room marked RECORDS.  
  
"Before we relocate witnesses, not only do we investigate potential duplicates of these witnesses, but of those they are testifying against. Good thing we have paper records." Rickman opened the drawer of a Hon filing cabinet. "Here is Van Dahl's file. It says here that his duplicate here resides in Long Beach and works as an engineer at the Toyota plant in Carson."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So if Galen van Dahl is here, he might have murdered his duplicate and taken his place. He'd have access to his duplicate's bank account and house. I think it's time we did a stakeout."  
  
And so that's what we did. I went to a white Honda van parked outside. Apparently it had been retrofitted with the surveillance technology from Angela's world. Joining me and Rickman was Michael Hurley and some blond haired man named Shays.   
  
"Did that bomb ruin the van's equipment?" I asked.  
  
"The EMP only fried the electronics inside the building," said Michael Hurley. "The van was parked outside."  
  
Rickman started the van and put it into gear. Soon, we were heading south of Highway 35, the windshield wipers wiping the rain from the windshield. After a few minutes, we reached the junction with Highway 18 in Hawaiian Gardens. Rickman made a right turn, and a few miles later we were in Long Beach.  
  
Rickman pulled to the curb on California Avenue and he pointed toward a house.  
  
"That is the native Van Dahl residence," said Rickman.   
  
"I see two people in there," said Shays, looking at a Sony color monitor mounted on the wall of the van. I looked and could see images of people.  
  
"So what?" I asked.  
  
"We wait," said Rickman. "We tail him to see if he's the Van Dahl from this world or from ours."  
  
After a few minutes of sitting inside the van, I saw the garage in the Van Dahl residence open. A car backed out into the street. I noticed Shays was checking the monitor intentlty.  
  
"Sir, I think that's Mr. van Dahl driving."  
  
"Let's tail him," said Hurley.  
  
And so we did. Rickman put the Honda in gear and followed him from a distance. We turned right on Wardlow Road and followed Van Dahl's car. Hurley was in the front passenger seat reading a native road map.  
  
"Wardlow should go right to Carson, just as it does on our world," he said.  
  
"You know, I wish the 405 existed here," said Rickman.  
  
"How do you like your job?" I asked him. "I mean, it must be interesting going to other worlds and stuff."  
  
"Well, there was this incident back in the early days of our off-world operations," said Rickman. "On ym first assignment, I was arrested for a series of murders. It turned out my duplicate was a suspect. I was in jail for a week before the WSA busted me out. Then I was interrogated for three more days, to see if they had their Angus Rickman and not the one wanted for murder."  
  
"Well, it happened to me too," I said. "I've been arrested for crimes my duplicate committed. So whatever became of that case?"  
  
"Last I heard, the real Angus Rickman was caught and was on death row."  
  
We continued following the car. Soon we were going through a rural area, with farmland on both sides of the road. I saw a billboard for the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino. A few yards later, I saw another billboard advertising a car called the Toyota Samurai.   
  
Soon we enounctered a sign welcoming us to the city of Carson. We entered an industrial neighborhood. We saw Van Dahl's car make a left turn on a street called Bonita.   
  
Not far from the intersection, I saw a huge building with the word TOYOTA on it; it can only be the Toyota manufacturing plant.   
  
"Well, Van Dahl had pulled in to the parking lot," said Rickman. "If our version of him is here, then he seems to be getting into the life of his duplicate.  
  
"Well, I guess we should wait," said Hurley.   
  
"Will Angela be okay?" i asked.  
  
"We have security over there," said Shays. "Let's just hope Van Dahl does not send an explosive bomb."  
  
Rickman turned on the radio and played this world's music. And we just sat in the van and waited. I then noticed the rain gave way to a sprinkle.   
  
A catering truck pulled into the parking lot of the plant.   
  
"Well, the workers are out to lunch now," said Hurley.   
  
"Perhaps one of us could take a closer look at Van Dahl," said Rickman.  
  
"I should do it," I said. "If Van Dahl knew where your hideout was, he might know your identity. He would not know me, unless my duplicate is also in your agency."  
  
"There's men's cologne in the bag," said Hurley. "You can start by selling it."  
  
I got out of the Honda van and walked to the parking lot of the Toyota plant. I saw people ordering food from the catering truck. I noticed that about half of the factory's workers were Mexicans.   
  
There were some tables with umbrellas over them; I guessed that the manager was nice enough to put such umbrellas in case of rain.   
  
I saw Galen van Dahl sitting at one of the tables, talking to one of the Mexicans. I watched from a distance. I sawe that he was speaking casually to the guy, as if he knew him for a while. I decided to approach.  
  
"Excuse me, sirs," i said. "I'm here selling this cologne."  
  
"No thanks," said Van Dahl. "We're not interested."  
  
I turned and then listened. I noticed Van Dahl using engineering terms as if he understood them. A seed of doubt wass planted in my mind.  
  
Anyway, I decided to go try to make my sales pitch to the other workers. About a third of them only spoke Spanish, but that was okay since I could speak Spanish. and I actually made a few sales.  
  
After that, I went back to the van. "Did you find anything?" asked Rickman.  
  
"Well, I made about thirty dollars," I said. "And I saw him talking to his coworkers. It seemed as if they knew each other."  
  
"He could havwe arrived here last week," suggested Michael Hurley.   
  
"Well, we'd better get lunch," said Shays.   
  
And so we bought hamburgers and french fries and Cokes from the nearest McDonald's. We continued the surveillance for a few more hours. It was rather boring; I even watched some of the local TV.  
  
After that, I saw some cars leave rthe parking lot while some of the workers left on foot. We spotted Van Dahl's car. Rickman started the van and followed.  
  
I looked at the car ahead. I saw a traffic signal turn red, and the car slowed to a stop. Something was wrong.  
  
"Mr. Rickman," I said, "did you ever have any trouble adjusting to life in this world when you were first assigned here?"  
  
"Well," he said, "I had trouble with the traffic laws the first month or so I was here. You see, here red means stop. I ran a few red lights the first few times I drove on this world. I eventually got used to that." He looked ahead at Van Dahl's car as it stopped at another red light. "Oh no."  
  
"What?" asked Shays.  
  
"I think the man we're following is from this world," said Rickman.   
  
"How do you know?" asked Hurley.  
  
I then remembered something Angela told me about her world. "...the other way around on my world," she had said, concerning traffic signals.  
  
"Here, red means stop and green means go," I said. "Van Dahl stops at the red lights without any trouble. He drives like he's from here, and the reason he does is because he is from here."  
  
"Well, back to square one," said Rickman.  
  
We went back to the outpost in Santa Fe Springs and discussed the situation. Angela was already awake and attending.  
  
"Van Dahl might not have taken over his duplicate's life," said Rickman. "He may still try to use his duplicate's finances. He will very likely need the local currency to operate here, and getting money from his duplicate's savings account would do the trick."  
  
"We can access bank records with our computers," said Michael Hurley. "The computer networks here are not as advanced, so we should not have trouble hacking in."  
  
"Except that all the computers here were fried by that bomb," I said.   
  
"Oh, I forgot all about it."  
  
"There must be something we can do," said Angela. "We can't risk waiting for someone back home to come look for us. The people trying to kill me also have a way home."  
  
"Well, young lady," Rickman said to Angela, "the best thing you can do is to stay here. We have armed security agents ready to protect you."  
  
"We have two other witnesses relocated here," said Michael Hurley. "Do we bring them here?"  
  
"Van Dahl is only after her. The others should be safe."  
  
Then all of the agents left. Angela just sat there. for a minute, the only sound was the raindrops striking the ceiling window.  
  
"You know, it sucks being stuck here," she said.  
  
"I've been in that situation."  
  
Angela looked up at the ceiling window and stared at the rain raining down. "All of this occurred because I said yes when someone offered me a cigarette so many years ago. Just after I turned thirteen, I stole a plasma TV from the house of a friend I knew since elementary school. It took only two weeks for me to spend all of that on cigarettes. I got caught by the police when I was fourteen and the juvenile court put me on probation. My probation officer was taking bribes from gangs, and he introduced me to dealing tobacco. I know how bad a person I was. I was a thief andliar and a seller of poison."  
  
"Did you ever go to church?" I asked.  
  
"I used to."  
  
"Well, all of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Jesus Christ came down from Heaven and died to pay the price for our sins. He later rose from the dead and is now in Heaven, watching over us. I know that Jesus is watching over me, and I know He is watching over you too. I believe He guided me here to save your life."  
  
"That's right," said Angela. "You pushed me out of the way just before that guy opened fire."  
  
"This wasn't the first time I helped someone in need during my travels. The Lord did not send me here to save your life only so you can be killed a few days later by these thugs. Remember one thing. We may stray from the path to Christ, but if we accept Him as our Saviour, then we will be forgiven and He will be on our side."  
  
"You sure are into Christian stuff."  
  
"Well, Christ is all I have now."  
  
Anyway, I headed back to the Circus Circus to begin my shift as a blackjack dealer. I once again dealt out the cards to the casino's patrons, collecting bets and paying out winnings. All this time, I kept an eye out for the gold-toothed Negro who tried to kill Angela. He and his boss must know Angela worked here, and may try to stake the area out. I hoped a message from my guardian angel will be transmitted to me to give me a clue on how to find these people.   
  
I got my break, and I immediately went for the telephone and I dialed the number for the WSA safehouse in Santa Fe Springs.  
  
"Hello, is Angela there?" I asked.  
  
"One moment," replied the secretary.   
  
"Hello," said Angela.  
  
"it's me, Colin," I said. "you okay."  
  
"Well, I'm bored since there's no working radio or TV, but other than that, I'm still alive. Nobody's gonna break in, not with these guys with guns and lasers."  
  
"Well, I've been keeping an eye out for them during my shift, but I haven't seen our gold-toothed friend. Has anyone from your world made contact?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Well, I'll check up on you after my shift is over."  
  
so I went back to the blackjack table and resumed my work. I dealt a few more hands.   
  
then I noticed someone in the crowd. It was a young woman with blond hair, playing blackjack a few tables away. At first I thought that was Angela, and I had wondered why she would go back to the casino rather than stay with Rickman and the others, but she was a bit taller than Angela.  
  
Still, she did look familiar, as I have seen her before. She may be a patron of the casino, or even someone whose duplicate I have seen and remembered in a parallel Earth.  
  
I had this feeling that she was someone important. She then left the blackjack table; I decided to follow her.  
  
"Where are you going?" asked one of the blackjack players at my table. "You haven't finished yet!"  
  
I ignoired him and focused on the woman. She went to the cashier's cage to trade in the casino chips for money, and then she walked. She appeared to be headed for the parking structure. I followed from a distance. I could not see her face clearly due to the fact that the casino was packed with gamblers. Thwen I saw her meet up with this big Negro man.  
  
It was the same man that had tried to kill Angela yesterday.  
  
They seemed to be walking together. I could tell they were having a conversation. They soon left the casino and entered the parking structure. The two of them walked down this incline and then got into a car, a gray Toyota Camry.  
  
I made sure to record the license plate. I made sure to burn the license plate number in my memory. I hoped this would give me an important clue. This could be my only lead. 


	3. Bait and Switch

After I got to my temporary home, a studio apartment in central Long Beach, I called the WSA safehouse and asked to speak to Agent Rickman.  
  
"Hello," asked Rickman.  
  
"It's me, Colin Mallory," I said. "I think I've got a lead."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, I saw the guy who tried to kill Angela yesterday. He got into a car with a woman. I recorded the license plate number. Here it is." I gave him the license plate number of that Toyota Camry. "If we can search the DMV records, we could find out where Van Dahl or his people are hiding."  
  
"Excellent work," said Rickman. "Can you meet us here tomorrow?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
And that is what I did. After I woke up, got dressed, and ate a quick breakfast consisting of cereal, toast, and orange juice, I went over to Santa Fe Springs. I briefed Rickman on the details of what I saw at Circus Circus.  
  
"Well, at least we have a lead," said Michael Hurley. "But of course, we don't have any working computers in here to log in to the DMV servers."  
  
"Well, then we should go to the DMV," I said. "Maybe someone there could help us."  
  
"They might have privacy laws here," said Angus Rickman. "We might not be able to check the license plate. We do not have law enforcement credentials here."  
  
"I think I could come up with something," said Angela. "Colin, come with me."  
  
And so I did. Angela got into the driver's seat of a red Toyota Samurai. She insisted on driving, due to the fact that she had a California driver's license.   
  
"We're going to the DMV office near the apartment where the feds stashed me," she said.  
  
And that was what we did. We arrived at a building located on Atherton Street in Long Beach. I read a sign identifying the building as an office of the California Department of Motor Vehicles. The California Republic flag flew proud and tall.   
  
Angela and I entered the office. As I expected, there was a long line. So we waited. After about twenty minutes, we reached the front.  
  
"Excuse me," said Angela, talking to a bespectacled young man. "I need to look up this license plate number."  
  
"Uh, why," he asked.  
  
Angela touched his arm. "Well, I'm considering buying a car from this lady. I just want to make sure it's not stolen. A while back, a friend of mine bought this car for only two thousand dollars. It turned out the car was stolen and the police took it back. The guy who sold her the car disappeared and she never got her money back. Please."  
  
"Well," said the receptionist, smiling, "Okay." I saw him type into the terminal, and then he printed something. It took a minute for the printout to complete. "Okay, here is what we have from the DMV records. And you do not have to worry; it's not reported stolen."  
  
"I'd like the record, please."  
  
"Well, okay."  
  
Angela looked at the printout. "Yes, this is the person I was hoping to see."  
  
"Have a nice day, sweetie," said the receptionist.  
  
"A pretty girl gets special favors whatever the world," Angela said to me. "But you'll be surprised as to who owns this car. I'll show you the printout when we get in the car."  
  
"Is what you said about your friend true?"  
  
"Yes. there was no reason to lie."  
  
So we got back to the Toyota Samurai and Angela started the car. I read the printout.  
  
Search for License Plate CA 3QRM994  
  
3QRM994  
  
VEHICLE INFORMATION  
  
VIN: J1353246212  
  
MANUFACTURER: Toyota  
  
MAKE: Camry  
  
MODEL: 1997  
  
COLOR: Gray  
  
REGISTRANT INFORMATION  
  
REGISTRANT NAME: Van Dahl, Deana Danielle  
  
DOB: 11/11/1977  
  
SEX: F  
  
HAIR: Blond  
  
EYES: Blue  
  
HEIGHT: 5 FT. 8 IN.  
  
CURRENT ADDRESS: 222 La Verne Ave #2 Long Beach, CA 90803  
  
California Republic Department of Motor Vehicles Record # 454244  
  
After reading through it twice, I knew that the WSA had to see this.  
  
"So his daughter is here," said Angus Rickman.   
  
"Well, I figured that was his daughter," said Angela.   
  
"From what I remember, the FBI suspects that Deana van Dahl is involved in her father's business. Apparently her involvement includes traveling to another universe to kill a witness. Apparently she went here and replaced her counterpart and is using her countperpart's apartment as a base of operations."  
  
"So now what?" I asked.  
  
"Well," said Rickman, "fortunately, this world's Deana used her own address to register her car, rather than her parents' address. We can stake out the place."  
  
"Well, I don't think we can just break into her apartment and grab her," said Michael Hurley. "Trying to take her into custody is risky, especially since she is living in an apartment. We could be arrested and if that happens we certainly can't tell the police we're from another Earth."  
  
"I just remembered something," said Angela. "About two hours before that guy tried to kill me, Deana ordered a drink from me. She asked me my name."  
  
"Are you sure it was her?" I asked.  
  
"Positive."  
  
"I know what she looks like," I said.  
  
"You got a good look at her?" asked Michael Hurley.  
  
"Actually,. I met one of her duplicates last month. It was on this world where a plague killed all the adults ten years ago."  
  
"Okay," said Rickman. "We'll have to stake her place out."  
  
And so we did. Rickman drove the white Honda van to Long Beach and parked on La Verne Avenue, right across the street from Deana's place.  
  
Given that Deana probably did not know whom I am, I went over for a closer look, while Rickman and Shays stayed behind.  
  
Fortunately, I had the perfect cover story. Apartment #1 at 222 La Verne was available for rent. I knokced on the door of Apartment #1; no one answered. I decided to knock on Apartment #2. I hoped the man who tried to kill Angela does not answer; he might recognize me.  
  
Fortunately, it was not him; it was some big freckle-faced fellow with shiny red hair. He was dresssed in a red collared shirt and blue jeans. I looked past him, and recorded every detail of the apartment that I could see.  
  
"Yeah," he said.  
  
"Excuse me," I asked. "I'm asking about the apartment across from yours that's for rent."  
  
"Do I look like the apartment manager?" he asked. "The For Rent sign should have a phone number; call them if you want to talk about the apartment."  
  
"Well, okay," I said. "But I'd like to get to know you better. We could be neighbors."  
  
"I don't live here."  
  
"You a visitor?"  
  
"Someone is paying me to watch the apartment. A man's got to take care of his kids, you know." I then heard a phone ring. "Excuse me, someone's calling." I saw him go to a phone in the kitchen. I made sure to take a closer look. The living room had two sofas and a television and a stereo system. I also saw blankets on the sofas, as if people were sleeping there.  
  
I then saw something else. I went over and took a closer look. It was a portable Sony stereo, with a radio tuner, a cassette player-and a CD player.   
  
Compact discs had not been invented here; all the music is either on cassette or vinyl record.   
  
"Hey!" shouted the man in the apartment. "Did I invite you here?"  
  
"Uh, no," I said.  
  
"Then leave!"  
  
So I did.  
  
I immediately told Rickman and shays what I saw.  
  
"A CD player?" asked Rickman. "Well, we now know. I figured Miss van Dahl would bring music from her world to her temporary base of operations. So what we will do is wait for her to come home and then grab her."  
  
"We don't know what she does for a living," I said. "Besides, she'll have bodyguards, and we can't just start a firefight with them. And we certainly can't get close to him. I think our friend with the gold tooth is her personal bodyguard, and he would recognize me."  
  
"Maybe not," said Angus Rickman. "I've an idea."  
  
I did not like Rickman's idea, but I guess it had to be done. I waited with the stakeout teams. Finally, one of them reported a gray Toyota Camry pulling into an alley right behind La Verne Avenue. It went into the garage that was behind the apartment building where Deana lives. Then they reported that Deana left the aprtment on foot, with her Negro bodyguard following closely.   
  
They went to a bar on Second Street not far from the apartment. I went in there, wearing a red wig, with a red blose and red skirt. Netting covered my legs. I saw down at the bar and looked around,. It was a small, narrow place, with a pool table in the back.  
  
I just hoped no guys tried to pick me up.   
  
I had a Corona while I made sure Deana was in my peripheral vision. I hoped everything went according to plan. I then saw Deana head to the ladies room and I followed.  
  
I went into the ladies' room. Deana went into the toilet stall. After a minute, she got out and washed her hands. As hse did so, I pulled out the Colt semiautomatic pistol and placed it at the base of her skull.  
  
"Don't make a sound," I said. "I know you have a timer. Hand over the timer and I won't kill you."  
  
"Who are you?" she whispered. "What timer?"  
  
"I know that you're not of this world."  
  
Suddenly she turned around and grabbed my right arm which was holding the gun. She then punched me in the face, and boy did it hurt! She then kneed me in the stomach and pain traveled up my spine and into my brain. She then pulled a pistol out.  
  
My instincts caused my arm to deflect the line of fire, and a shot rang out. I knew this would attract attention and the plan to grab the timer failed, so I fled the ladies' room. A few seconds later, I was out on the street. I immediately headed back to the white Honda van.  
  
"You managed to get the timer, right?" asked Rickman.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"We know that Miss Van Dahl is on to us," said Michael Hurley. "She's probably going to hide until her timer runs out and she can return to her world."  
  
"At least she won't be coming after me," said Angela. "We can wait for someone to come here and fix the stuff here and bring me home."  
  
"I don't think we should give up just yet," said Rickman. "Deana van Dahl's timer is the best chance we have of gathering evidence against her and her father."  
  
"She might have left this world already."  
  
"Perhaps," I said. "But she can't leave at any time. She has to use a timer to get home, and she can only use the timer when it counts down to zero."  
  
"You sure know how these things work," said Hurley.  
  
"I've had a year of experience working with those things."  
  
"We know where she is," said Angela. "We can just bust into her place and take the timers."  
  
"You haven't thought this through," said Rickman. "That will attract the attention of the police, especially if it involves a shootout with her and her thugs. We don't know how much time is left on those timers; we can't risk involving the police."  
  
"Deana came here to kill Angela," I said. "She might try one last attempt before the timer runs out. I mean, she would have an escape route. She goes and kills Angela and then she hides out with minutes to spare on the timer and then slides home."  
  
Angus Rickman started thinking. "It's risky, but worth it. The attorney general will be pleased if I had something concrete about Galen van Dahl. After all, I know enough about trials to know that his attorneys will pull every trick in the book to discredit Angela here."  
  
"I hope Rickman knows what he's doing," said Angela.  
  
"Well, Jesus is looking after you," I said. "He didn't send me here to save your life only so you can get killed tonight."  
  
The two of us were back in the casino in Circus Circus. Angela was dressed in a brown trench coat, and I was dressed like a man. We just wandered around the casino, mingling with the crowd.  
  
"Hey!" someone shouted. I wondered if it was one of Deana's thugs.   
  
I looked and saw Angela's boss.  
  
"You didn't show up for work without calling," he said.  
  
"I had other priorities," said Angela.  
  
"Well, missy, you're fired! You'll receive your check in the mail."  
  
"I guess I won't be using him for a reference," said Angela. "I wonder if Deana would try to get me in a public place."  
  
"If she is seconds from getting home and she sees an opportunity, she will," I said. "It's not like the police here can extradite her from another dimension."  
  
"We'd better make sure I'm not in the middle of a crowd."  
  
We walked around and even gambled with some of the money provided to us by Agent Rickman. I then had this feeling. I felt we were being watched.  
  
I knew I had this second sense since becoming unstuck. My guardian angel from another dimension is trying to tell me something.  
  
I then saw him; the red-haired man who answered Deana's door.He was stalking us.   
  
"We're being followed," I said to a hidden microphone. "I'm positive one of Deana's men is following us."  
  
"Good," replied Rickman. "You know what to do."  
  
I waded through the crowd and glanced behind, making sure they were following me. I got on to an Otis escalator that led to the parking structure. I crossed over the pedestrian bridge and entered the parking structure. I kept walking acorss the concrete floor.  
  
I glanced behind, and saw Deana and company enter the parking structure. Then I sensed danger.  
  
I ducked bwehind a car just as I saw a bright flash. I saw two of Deana's men firing laser beams at where they saw Angela. The beams appeared to pass right through her.   
  
They wondered what happened, so they approached. They swiped their hands through Angela. It was then they realized they were dealing with a hologram.  
  
It worked! I was glad those technicians were able to fix the holographic projector. I immediately opened fire on them with my Colt semiautomatic. the red-haired man was struck. I fired at Deana, but she ducked behind a Nissan pickup truck. She returned fire with her pistol, and we were firing at each other.   
  
Then I looked and saw Angela, who donned a scarf and a black wig after ducking into a women's restroom in the casino. We kept our distance from Deana and that gold-toothed man as I opened fire at them. We went down an incline which led to the parking structure's first floor, and then we left through a door neat a stariwell, making sure Deana saw us.   
  
We took cover among the parked cars in the valet parking lot. I saw a laser beam whiz just past my head. I had failed to take down Deana in the parking structure, and we were at Plan B.   
  
Angela and I approached the corner of Pine Avenue and Shoreline Drive. I could see the Pike amusement park. There was no cover, but I had something that would make cover. I threw a smoke grenade and it created a smokescreen, which iobsucred us and allowed us to cross. We were lucky none of the bullets or laser beams hit us.   
  
The Pike was closed, but I knew of a side gate that was unlocked. Angela and I went through the side gate, making sure Deana could see us. I glanced at the surroindings, with the midway games lined up in a row, and the outline of the wooden Cyclone Racer roller coaster in the background.  
  
"We're in," I said. "I hope your team is ready."  
  
"We're in position," I heard Michael Hurley say. "Rickman and his team should be moving in."  
  
Suddenly, I saw a laser beam shoot past us. I opened fire at the direction it came from. I saw Deana's companion go down. Now I aimed the pistol at Deana herself.  
  
I found out I was out of bullets! I had to take cover and load the Colt with another clip, so I took cover behind a trash can and did so. I then emerged ready to fire at Deana.  
  
But then she aimed with her bodyguard's laser and fired. She seemed to miss.   
  
But then I saw a light fixture crash down on me. I covered my face with my arms, but then thing hit me right in the forehead! And it hurt. I was real dizzy. For a moment I wondered if it was a fatal injury.   
  
I saw Deana aim the laser. I was still too dizzy to get up. I fired the pistol in her direction, but the shots were off the mark.  
  
And then I saw Angela fall.  
  
No!  
  
Deana walked up to where Angela fell and then kicked her. I concentrated as hard as my injured head will allow. She pulled something out of her pocket and looked at it intently. I knew it was a timer; she was checking how much time she had left before she could open the wormhole back to her world.   
  
And then I heard shots. I saw Deana fall. I wondered if the WSA agents opened fire. But it wasn't them. It was Angela! She got up.  
  
I ran to her, and then almost fell due to the blow to my head.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked. She touched my forehead. "You're bleeding."  
  
"Nice idea," I said. "Pretending to fall when Deana opened fire."  
  
suddenly, I saw people wearing helmets and body armor approach, all armed with lasers.  
  
"You all right?" asked Angus Rickman as he approached.  
  
"Well, Colin was hit in the head," said Angela. "Deana van Dahl...I shot her."  
  
I looked at Deana. And then I saw the object she was holding. I went for it and picked it up. It was a small plastic object.  
  
There was a flip panel, and I saw a digital readout. It read 3 minutes 52 seconds and was counting down. It was Deana's timer.  
  
"Here's her timer," I said, showing it to Angela and Agent Rickman. We have a little over three minutes left.  
  
Rickman took the timer. "We'd better do this now, or else we'll have to wait twenty-nine years," he said. He checked his watch. "It seems Daddy is expecting his little girl home at 10 PM sharp."  
  
Angela and I looked as the timer counted down. It reminded me of my watch, which told me I would leave next evening. I saw it count down. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.  
  
Then the timer read all zeroes.  
  
Rickman presse a button, and the air started to shimmer. I saw a light, and the wormhole opened. I had not seen it in a long time.   
  
"Well, let's do it!" shouted Rickman. One of the agents with him threw some things in; I figured they were grenades. "et's go!"  
  
I saw Agent Angus Rickman jump into the swirling vortex, followed by six agents. The wormhole stayed open for quite a while, and then it closed shut.   
  
"Well, there he goes," said Michael Hurley, looking at the spot where the wormhole was. "I hope he's okay."  
  
"We'd better get you treated," one of the agents said to me. "I'll get a first aid kit."  
  
a gauze was applied against my firehead and then it was bandaged. I looked at Deana. I heard that the agents would take her body back to the outpost before sending it back home.  
  
I then noticed a set of keys that had fallen from her pocket; they were the keys to a Toyota Camry.  
  
"We need to check the car," I said.  
  
So we went back to the Circus Circus parking structure, Hurley and Angela and I. The police were already there. They had cordoned off the area where one of Deana's men fell.   
  
"If he's alive," whispered Michael Hurley. "We'll have to bust him out."  
  
As it turned out, the gray Toyota Camry that Deana was driving was in the floor above, and the police were not there. I figured they finished the search. There did not seem to be anything unusual about the car.  
  
I unlocked the trunk and kicked the lid open. there was somethign wrapped in plastic, and it smelled bad.  
  
"I'd better do this," said Hurley, wearing a pair of leather gloves. He drew the plastic back, and it revealed a corpse.  
  
I could teel that it was a female corpse, with long blond hair.  
  
That was the native Deana van Dahl.  
  
"Looks like she was shot," said Hurley. "Apparently, her counterpart from our world murdered her and took her place." Hurley shut the trunk door.  
  
"Now what?" asked Angela.  
  
One of the agents walked up to us, holding a pistol. Hurley wiped the barrel and handle with a handkerchief.  
  
"Holsd this," he told Angela.  
  
"Why am I doing this?" asked Angela as she held the pistol, a nine-millimeter Colt semiautomatic.  
  
"The police will investigate her murder once they find the body," said Hurley. "I am certain that was the murder weapon. By making sure your fingerprints are on the weapon, we can eliminate any chances of the police arresting an innocent person for this crime."  
  
"What if there's another me on this world?" asked Angela. "I mean, she could be living on the other side of the country and you don;t know it."  
  
"Your duplicate here is dead," said Hurley. "She fell sick and died when she was ten. The police will find the gun in the cart, they will dust it for fingerprints, and the only match they will get will match a girl who died at ten."  
  
Angela placed the Colt semiautomatic on the floor in front of the passenger seat and then locked the car.   
  
"Let's go home," said Hurley.  
  
We were back in Santa Fe Springs. I received stitches for the cut in my forehead, and the field medic rubbed HealAll ointment which accelerates healing, something manufactured on their world. I also received drugs to deal with my concussion.  
  
I sat in the waiting room, and I was a little sleepy.  
  
"It was my fault," said Angela.  
  
"What is your fault?" I asked.  
  
"That that girl died."  
  
"She was trying to kill you," I said. "You had to kill her."  
  
"No, not her. Her other self from this world. She was murdered for her life here, so her counterpart could use her car and her apartment and her money so she could kill me. She wanted to kill me to keep me from testifying against her dad, and I wanted to testify against her dad to avoid going to prison, and I faced going to prison because I dealt tobacco, and I dealt tobacco because I started smoking when I was twelve. That cigarette led to that girl's death. I can't imagine how her parents will feel when they find out what happened, and how they will never get closure. It's all my fault."  
  
I remembered Quinn feeling the same way. Quinn had built a sliding generator which led him and his friends on a journey where they eventually encountered the kromaggs. Three years later, the world Quinn grew up in was conquered by the kromaggs. Quinn had told me that the enslavement of his world was his fault; that they found his world because of the sliding machine he built.   
  
"We must all live with our mistakes and learn from them," I said. "But you must know that the only person guilty of murdering Deana van Dahl is Deana van Dahl."  
  
"I don't know," shwe said. "I don't know if I could face myself knowing what happened."  
  
I woke up the next day. My watch told me that I had about fourteen hours left on this world. I had breakfast in the dining room. Angela had breakfast too. She said little.  
  
A few hours later, Agent Angus Rickman returned.   
  
"What happened?" I said.  
  
"We busted Galen van Dahl," he said. "He was on the other side expecting his daughter; I'll never forget the look of surprise on his face when my agents and I emerged from the wormhole. It turned out his QTD was in a warehouse in Carson, and the warehouse corresponds to the location of the Toyota plant on this world."  
  
"Well, I've seen many coincidences," I said.  
  
"It turned out someone from our agency gave Van Dahl the information. She's in a federal jail now. I don't think the U.S. attorney will offer her immunity; she will be going to prison. Headquarters is also sending us the equipment needed to make our QTD functional again."  
  
"What about me?" asked Angela.  
  
"You're going back home," replied Rickman. "You have a court date tomorrow."  
  
And so that is what happened. The QTD, or quantum translocation drive as they called it, was ready to go. Diana Davis was at the controls. Angela and I were in the embarkation room, along with Rickman. It was a huge, cavernous room, apparently it was used to transport cargo as well as people.  
  
"We've established contact with home base," she said. "we are ready to open the wormhole."  
  
And then I saw the wormhole open, glowing green.   
  
"Wormhole destination confirmed as home base," announced Davis.  
  
"Goodbye, Colin," said Angela. "I'll never forget you.  
  
I kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye."  
  
"I'll look up your counterpart on my world if he exists," said Angela. "I wonder if he's different from you."  
  
"Only one way to find out."  
  
Then Angela entered the wormhokle and went home.  
  
"I'd better escort her," said Rickman.  
  
"You coming back?" I asked.  
  
"In five minutes," he said, showing me a timer with five minutes programmed in. He then jumped in.  
  
The wormhole then closed.   
  
I spent the rest of the day in the Circus Circus casino, gambling what I had left. I made sure to buy snacks and bottled water from the gift shop. I looked back at the events of the past few days.   
  
"I know you're out there, Quinn," I said.  
  
And then it was time for me to go.  
  
The casino disappeared and I looked at my new surroundings. It looked like an office; there was a computer on a desk and some cardboard boxes stacked in a corner. I checked my watch; there was twenty-two minutes left in this world. Not enough time to locate Quinn.   
  
I left the office, and it led to a dark room lit with few lights. There was music on. It was strange and incomprehensible. I looked and saw a whole bunch of people dancing on a dance floor.  
  
I went down and decided to enjoy myself with the little time I had here. It was then I noticed something about the people here.  
  
They were all kromaggs. 


End file.
